Up In Smoke
by farewellblindgirl
Summary: They promised that someday soon, they would finally talk about them.  But their plans were just as ephemeral as the smoke that rose from their burning dreams. Spoilers through 'The Body in the Blizzard.'


Disclaimer: Don't own anything...

Summary: Spoilers up through The Body in the Blizzard.

Up in Smoke

Brennan and Booth leaned back in his newly acquired stadium chairs, watching the last of their 'dates' go up in smoke. Outside, the snow had subsided, but it was still freezing, and the ice had crawled up around the edges of the windows, turning them into portholes to the white world outside. Brennan, shifted around in her seat; she didn't find the chairs to be particularly comfortable, but she liked how their smaller than normal nature required that she sit closer to her friend than she'd been in awhile. Watching the papers burn, she felt something akin to hope for the first time in a long time.

"So, what date did you write on your paper?" she asked, not turning to look at him.

"Bones! You can't ask that." Without looking at him, she could still feel him squirming next to her.

"Why not?"

"It's a wish - you don't tell your wishes, 'cause then they don't come true."

"So... how will we know when we're to have our conversation?"

"We just will. When the time is right."

She sat there, looking across the room at the knick knacks he kept on his walls; the coo-coo clocks, old Burma Shave signs, what looked like the parts from a carburetor. "I don't think that plan will work, Booth."

"Why not?" he asked, his voice containing just a small bit of whining.

"I thought that after we found out about my mother would be the proper time to have a conversation about us, but then you started dating Cam. And then I thought that after Taffet abducted Hodgins and I might be ... or after Epps, but then you put that line between us. And then I thought..."

"Wait. You thought of us starting a relationship all the way back then... that's what? For like 5 years?"

"Yes."

"Hold on," he said, sitting up in his chair. "5 years?"

"Is it that odd? You're an attractive man. We have a strong friendship, physical compatibility, a level of trust that has been otherwise rare for me. It would be odd if I hadn't thought about it."

"Then why, that night. Why did you reject me?"

"I thought that if we were to enter a relationship, it would follow the standard process for a social contract of that nature. I did not assume that I would be required to guarantee a fifty-year commitment immediately."

"So, wait. If I had just... you know... asked you out on a date, you would have said yes?"

"I am not entirely sure. There were still risks I hadn't fully processed. But, I think I would have, yes."

Booth slumped back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. "God, Bones... are you kidding me? Was that what you thought I was asking for? That I was basically proposing?"

"I knew you weren't asking for marriage, but yes. You... I could not entirely reconcile your argument that we were a gamble with your argument that you knew we were supposed to spend forever together. But knowing what you'd said previously... I had to assume that, yes, you were expecting a full, long term commitment."

"You thought I was... I wasn't really asking for fifty years, you know. I was just... I didn't want us to go on three dates and then find out that you weren't interested. That would be worse than nothing at all."

"I think we would be able to manage more than three dates."

"So, more than three dates but less than fifty years."

"Booth... As much as I care for you, I don't believe our compatibility is a foregone conclusion. We approach life in very different ways. I will never convert to Catholicism. I find it unlikely that I will ever find a reason to marry. I suspect that either of those issues alone may be enough for you to end things. At some point, we will face issues that may be insurmountable."

"Bones, give me a little more credit than that. I've known you for almost a decade. I don't expect you to be Catholic or ever wear a white dress. I just don't want to start something and then find out you'd like to see your Deep-Sea-Diver guy on the side."

"Then you have to give me more credit. I have been in committed relationships before. I know that if we were to … date... that that's where it would end up."

"You are okay with that? Cause I couldn't handle casual, not with you. It doesn't have to be marriage, but yeah, I need to it to be monogamous. And I know what you've said about monogamy before."

"I understand. I would find knowing you were seeing someone in addition to me to be … difficult... as well."

"So what? We date, take it slow, no exit strategies and … I don't know … be happy?"

"I don't know what you mean by exit strategies."

"I mean, we don't start something with plans on how it will end. We don't hold back because we think we're going to end up hurt in a few months."

"Oh. I am not good at that... but … I am willing to try."

"So," he said, leaning forward and nearly whispering in her ear, "how about we start Saturday night? Good night for a first date..."

"Saturday night? Is that the date you put on your paper?"

"No. I just put 'soon.' And tomorrow seems a little too soon, but Sunday seems way too far away."

"I thought you were still too angry."

"An hour ago I was angry. Now I'm just feeling dumb. Are you still too impervious?"

"I don't really think I've been impervious since I met you. I just thought it would be easier for you to feel less pressure if I had a reason to be hesitant too. And you are right. Saturday is traditionally considered ideal for a first date."

"Then it's a date. Just a date. No demands of forever..."

"No demands. But it's okay to hope, right?"

Booth looked at her and saw that she was joking. He chuckled. "See? I told you the wishes we a good idea."

"Booth... that's just ridiculous, since if I had actually done what you recommended, we wouldn't have worked anything out," she said. Even happy and, for once, on the same page, she couldn't help but bicker with him.

"Noooot listening..." he said in a sing-song voice, bumping her shoulder.


End file.
